It's not like Blaine didn't know. Oh gosh… He knew.

How could he not? He loved Kurt. He noticed everything he did, from the way he sometimes kneaded his lips together and then pressed them into a thin line when asked a question to the way he brushed his thumb over his own when they were holding hands but he still felt lonely. Blaine knew him. He noticed. He noticed when Kurt turned away just a little when they were talking and met eyes with Sam. He noticed how much effort it took the senior to look back to him. He noticed that their hands didn't touch, let alone link together like they were supposed to.

And Blaine knew. He knew because date night was once every two weeks now opposed to every other night. He knew because Kurt didn't bother to constantly run his hands through his hair when they were together anymore, but he did the second Sam walked into the room. Like he didn't care enough to look nice for Blaine, but Sam was important. He knew because Kurt hadn't kissed him more than a peck in the past week.

Blaine loved Kurt. He noticed because he loved him, he knew because he loved him, and he completely ignored it because he loved him. So much it hurt. So Blaine didn't call Kurt out when he was "too busy" to go out with him. He didn't say anything when he had to wave a hand in front of his face to get his own boyfriend's attention during glee club. He soaked up every kiss he could get, treating the weak brush against his cheek like they were all he could ever conceive of deserving.

He didn't go down without a fight, though. Blaine pulled out every trick in the book, striving to win Kurt over, to be his and his only. He made every date Kurt graced him with as intricate and romantic as possible. He tried to dress better and maybe a bit sexier, not like his dumb little bowties could ever be considered provocative, but he did try. He was leaving class early and arriving late to walk with him. He was giving him all of his time and energy. He was hitting the gym as much as possible without interrupting precious Kurt time. As they neared their last few months as a couple, he was even letting himself grow thin. Maybe he needed to be skinnier. Maybe that could fix things…

But apparently it couldn't. Because Kurt just had to make it unavoidable. He had to ruin everything.

It was a Wednesday, and Blaine had been walking into the choir room when he saw them. Kurt was sitting on the piano, Sam's hands on his hips and his own trailing up and down the blonde's back. They were kissing in a way Blaine hadn't in a long time.

And that's when he fell apart.

He couldn't do this anymore. "Kurt?" he squeaked, his voice sounding far to crestfallen, even to his own ears. He had known. He had known, but… Oh gosh. This was different. This was real. This was in front of him… Kurt. His Kurt.

The older boy pulled away, giggling a bit as Sam continued to nibble at his neck. He turned to face Blaine, only to pale as white as a sheet of loose leaf the second he saw him (minus the blue and red lines). "Crap. Sam, back off," Kurt told him, pushing the football player away with his hands on his pecs. Sam smiled hungrily as he fumbled away, but the grin quickly fell away when he caught sight of Blaine.

"Kurt?" Blaine asked again, as if he didn't know it was him. As if he couldn't see him. As if he hadn't seen them. Together. Kissing. Like Blaine was supposed to. Like Blaine hadn't been. His stomach twisted. "Kurt?" He was getting hysterical, and he could tell. He tried to ask what was happening, what this meant, but Blaine couldn't figure out how to say anything but his boyfriend's name. The boyfriend he was bettering himself for, the one constantly on my mind. "Wha- Wha…?" He struggled to ask, but he couldn't work the words out as he started hyperventilating.

"Blaine, sweetie, calm down," Kurt told him, reaching out and holding his shoulders. Blaine immediately tore himself away, fear sweeping over his entire body for some reason. But… this was Kurt. Kurt was supposed to be what made the fear go away. Kurt was supposed to be there for him. He was his everything. He was supposed to be his. He was perfect. Blaine suddenly wondered where all the air had rushed off to.

He felt his face crumple and his chin tremble. "What did I do?" he asked, and there was that whole "pressing his lips together" thing again. Kurt just looked at him guiltily; mouth in a thin, straight line, and Blaine could feel his pulse beating in his ears. When his boyfriend (ex?) didn't answer, he changed the question. "What can I do?" he asked, grabbing Kurt's hand and sounding horribly pathetic and desperate.

"Blaine, I-" Kurt started, but Blaine changed his mind. He didn't want an answer. He didn't want to hear it. A sob echoed throughout the choir room, cutting Kurt off. Blaine figured it must have been from him, but he wasn't really sure. His stomach twisted as he met Kurt's eyes, and suddenly, being in the same room as him sounded too hard.

So he left.

Blaine pivoted on his heel, running out through the door, where naturally all the other glee members were gathered on their way into the room. They must have stopped to watch the drama unfold… Lovely. His mental breakdown had earned an audience.

The second Blaine turned the corner he slowed to a stop. He wasn't exactly sure where to go. He let himself wander aimlessly before collapsing in an empty classroom. He wiped his cheeks with the hem of his sleeve, alarmed when it came back sopping wet. How long had he been crying for? He scrubbed his eyes in the crook of his elbow, rooting into his pocket for his phone. He hit speed dial, trying to eliminate the shaking, depressed ring in his voice. Finally, a cackling on the other side of the line indicated someone had picked up. "Blaine?" He gasped.

"Mom? I think I made a terrible mistake…"